


Handle With Care

by autumn_hare



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Misunderstandings, Omega Peter, Sorry!, Tony has no fucking clue how to deal with all of this, and how much restraint the other avengers have, basically everyone else is an Alpha, bruce banner deserves an award for putting up with their bullshit, but i mean hey lots of things warrant it, more relationship tags possibly to come, neither does anyone, peter has no fucking clue what the avengers are, peters age is up for reader interpretation, possibly a bit of a slow burn, probably a bit OOC, the avengers are clueless alphas, we'll see how this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_hare/pseuds/autumn_hare
Summary: When Peter Parker's parents passed away, he was given to the New York Academy for Omega Education - the only life he ever thought he would know. He strived to be the best he could be, rising easily in the ranks as a very talented young Omega, but Peter had a fear - he couldn't let anyone find out about the powers, no, the sickness he got from a spider bite. Who would want an Omega like that?Peter's world is completely flipped when the kind woman from Stark Industries tells him that they were informed of his "special talents" and takes him to his new home at Stark Tower. But how long will it take them to figure out that Peter is a touch confused about what they want from him? And how long will it take before the tower full of super-human Alphas get used to the new Omega in their midst?OR:Peter is taken in by the Avengers because they found out about his spidey powers, but is convinced he's just there to serve like he was taught to his whole life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is my first fic in the Marvel fandom, so apologies if anything feels off <3 I would love to hear any feed back you have, including ideas for things you would like to see in future chapters ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Peter hummed quietly as he laced a tiny Omega child into her dress, one of the newest young ones. She looked frightened and pale, but Peter was gentle as his fingers tied little bows. He smiled at her whenever he caught her looking at him, whispering little ‘ _it’s okay_ ’s and shushing her sniffles. He picked her up with ease, taking her to a larger room packed with little Omegas, his ears pricking up as he heard the call of the headmistress.

 

“Parker, my office,” she called, her voice louder than he had ever dared to raise his. He mumbled a comforting ‘see you later’ to the girl and rushed off to the small office of the headmistress.

 

“Thank you again, Ms. Potts, for visiting the New York Academy for Omega Education, here comes Peter now,” spoke the headmistress, nodding to Peter as he walked in. The room always felt cold to him, but it was probably just the lack of Omega scent, every surface scrubbed clean. Peter couldn’t help but wonder if all Betas were like that, clean, or if it was a thing of comfort here, the only room non students were allowed in.

 

As he walked in he saw ‘Ms. Potts’, a tall slender woman with a tight lipped smile, delicately holding a stack of papers to her chest. He could immediately tell she was a Beta, it was something about how she smelled, not the same earthy and sweet way like the other students, no, Ms. Potts smelled of hand sanitizer and some sort of perfume. Peter bowed his head to her and stood nervously by the door. _No expectations,_ he chanted in his head, unwilling to be as foolish as he had been all of the other times he had been called to see a visitor. They had never picked him for some reason or another. But that was okay, Peter liked the Academy, or at least, he had told himself he liked it enough times as he fell asleep that it almost felt true sometimes. Someone would pick him one day, he would make sure of it, he would just have to keep pushing himself to be better and better, he would be the bes-

 

“Hi Peter!” The Beta’s chipper voice startled him into looking up again. She was smiling warmly at him, making something flutter in his heart. _No expectations._ It was his headmistress that spoke next.

 

“It might be best you go gather your things, Peter, it looks like Ms. Potts here is quite thrilled to take you home,” his eyes rocketed up to meet hers, staring in shock, flitting quickly over to Ms. Potts and back again.

 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he stumbled out, backing out the door, “Thank you, Ma’am,” and he was back in the hallway, barely able to process what was happening. He got chosen. He got _chosen_ . Him, Peter Parker, the kid with the young face and the big secret, scrawny Omega with no _real_ hope of an Alpha. He was one of the eldest, Omegas were being adopted younger and younger these days, and his peak years of being chosen seemed to be passing him by with every new group of children they brought in. He walked briskly to his shared room, shivering as he walked past the dreaded broom closet, the one with the all the icky spiders. The one where he got _bit._ Sick, he told himself, it made you sick. _You’ll get better_ , he whispered as he gathered his tiny collection of possessions in a small satchel.

 

*

He had never been frightened by the scentless aspect of Betas before, it had always seemed rather pleasant in theory, but now, as he trailed behind Ms. Potts across the loud gravel out in front of the Academy he couldn’t help but feel terrified of not being able to pick up on her true feelings. She hadn’t come to see him before she chose him, did she not care? Did the Alpha she was fetching him for not care? His heart pounded in his ears, but he found himself almost thankful that even though he couldn’t smell her, the fact that Ms. Potts was a Beta meant she also couldn’t smell him.

 

When they reached the car parked out front, an angry looking man opened the door for them both and the two of them clambered into the back of a massive and expensive looking car. If Peter had ever been in a car before, he had no memory of it at all. It took all of his training in manners to not scream when the car tumbled to life. Was it supposed to make that noise? He hazarded a glance at Ms. Potts, who looked as relaxed as she could be. Okay, it’s okay, he’s not going to die, _yet._ The car began to roll out of the driveway.

 

“So, Peter, or do you prefer Pete?” He hadn’t been expecting her to speak to him, but he responded with all the confidence he could muster, which, at the moment was not very much.

 

“Peter, Ms,” he kept his eyes glued to the floor.

 

“Alright, Peter, my name is Pepper Potts, I’m the CEO of Stark Industries, and you, are one _very special_ kid, aren’t you?” Peter blushed, listening along to her words like he knew what they meant. What was a CEO? And what was Stark industries?

 

She explained that they had heard of him and his _talents_ from a very special person, not elaborating quite yet on who ‘they’ meant. There had to be an Alpha at the heart of this, why would a Beta want an Omega? But even through his worry he couldn’t help but feel pride that she had heard about him. Maybe trying so hard to be the perfect Omega had finally paid off.

 

He resisted the urge to tap his foot. _Ugly habit._

 

Ms. Potts went on to tell Peter about the very special elite something or rather living at the so and so tower in a part of the city he had never heard, but he could barely listen, too awestruck by the scene passing by the windows of the car. Ms. Potts giggled, watching his eyes go wide as they passed by high rise buildings and bustling streets. Peter had never been to the city before, he had never been much of anywhere before.

 

“Welcome to New York City, Peter, I hope you like it, cause it’s home,” She smiled at him again, a slender hand touching him on the shoulder.

 

They pulled up to a massive building, the car stalling out front as the grouchy man opened the doors for them again. Peter stepped out after Ms. Potts, listening to the sounds of her heels click against pavement. The building was massive, and they seemed to be heading right for the main doors.

 

“Where are we,” he breathed, neck almost beginning to feel sore from looking up. How did they even make buildings this tall?

 

“Stark Tower,” Ms. Potts smiled at a security guard,  “Home sweet home.”

 

*

 

Peter really didn’t know what to expect when he stepped out of the elevator, _elevator,_ is that what it was called? Peter tried to remember, but was quickly distracted by the wave of scent rushing into the funny little room as the doors opened. His eyes snapped shut, inhaling deep breaths until he heard the click clack of Ms. Potts’ heels leaving him behind.

 

His eyes scanned rapidly as they emerged into a great wide room, the windows reaching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. He was looking for his new Alpha, the one that smelled like this. This had to be Alpha scent, it _had_ to be. Admittedly, Peter had never actually met an Alpha before, but there was just something about the way this smell made his stomach stir and his mind foggy that he just knew.

 

Peter watched anxiously from afar as Ms. Potts took off her coat and hung it up on a coat rack, setting her stack of papers on a nearby bar top. He wasn’t sure what to do himself, so he stood quietly and waited. He heard her speak, there was nobody else in the room, but she couldn’t be talking to him, right?

 

“Friday, please inform Mr. Stark of our arrival, we were done quicker than anticipated,” before Peter could even look around again to see who he had missed a voice was already replying to her, seemingly coming right out of thin air.

 

“Of course Ms. Potts,” a pause, “Mr. Stark will be here momentarily,” Peter felt himself begin to panic, Mr. Stark, that must be his Alpha, the one that smells so good, the one-

 

“Pepper? Back so soon?” a woman appeared in a new doorway Peter hadn’t noticed, sunlight from the massive window glinting off her red hair.

 

“Ah, Natasha, let me introduce you to the newest member of the Brady Bunch,” Ms. Potts turned to where Peter stood, gesturing him closer. Peter tried not to stumble over his feet as he felt “Natasha” look him up and down. His head was swirling with everything bombarding him, all these knew things. _Avengers, Brady Bunch, elevator, Stark Tower, Friday,_ he understood none of it. _Yet._ But there was a reason he was one of the best at the Academy, he tried hard and he succeeded. He could do this.

 

“I hadn’t realized Stark found another,” Peter shuddered. _Another Omega._ He tried not to think about what happened to the last.

 

“I swear,” Natasha reached out a hand to shake Peters, “There’s something in the air, with the amount of recruits we’ve been seeing,” she smiled at him, something threatening in the glint of her sharp teeth. _Alpha._ He watched her chest rise as she inhaled. “Hey, no need to worry kid, if you’ve made it to the tower that means he must think you’re special,” Natasha winked at him. Just breathe, Peter, it’s okay, you can do this. She couldn’t be his Alpha, right? His Alpha had to be the one Ms. Potts had been talking about. Mr. Stark, who lived in _Stark Tower,_ Peter felt himself shiver, he had always dreamed of having a wealthy Alpha but this… this was more than he could’ve even come up with.

 

“I’m Natasha Romanoff, nice to meet you, Peter,” god, is this what all Alphas are like? Peter hoped not, something about the quiet way she spoke and the strong grasp of her hand frightened Peter, even more so than the new unfamiliar scent of her.

 

“It is my pleasure, Ms. Romanoff,” Peter bowed his head low, thanking all his training for helping him through this moment. He kept his eyes trained on the ground.

 

“Call me Nat, kid,” he saw her turn to Ms. Potts. “I’ve got to scram for a bit, but I’m sure I’ll see you both around,” as she turned to leave Peter felt his entire body relax, her scent mostly leaving with her. His first interaction with an Alpha, over. But, alas, the peace didn’t last long, he only had seconds to adjust before he was being bombarded with scent again.

 

“Hey, Pep, back so soon? I didn’t thi-” Peter saw the Alpha’s feet stop in their tracks, the man attached to them suddenly going silent. Then that smell was there - the intoxicating one that lingered in the room, intensified a million times. _Alpha._ Peter couldn’t help but take a step towards it, he looked up into the Alpha’s eyes and caught himself staring, his mouth falling a touch agape.

 

*

When Tony walked into the room, he had honestly almost forgotten about the kid. Pepper had organized everything - she had talked to his school, picked him up, sorted out his living quarters. Everything, the only thing Tony had to do was find the kid. Well, Tony didn’t really do that either. It had been F.R.I.D.A.Y who had notified him, keeping her proverbial finger on the pulse of interesting reports and sightings. Apparently a janitor at the kid’s school had blabbed to his loudmouth Alpha about something they had seen, and it didn’t take long to verify. The kid was special. Tony remembered Pepper had tried to explain something to him, something about the school, the ‘Academy’ she called it; some sort of elite training school, Tony had just assumed he kid was smart. He didn’t think much on how they obtained custody. An orphan maybe? That was common enough. But as he walked into the room he knew something was wrong, something was _very, very wrong_.

 

“Tony!” Pepper looked excited, her voice high, and tinged slightly with anxiety, “meet Peter, your newest recruit. Come say hello, won’t you?”

 

The kid, Peter, stood slightly behind her, his head tilted to the ground, eyes barely visible staring intently up from under think eyelashes. His cheeks were stained red, and his hands looked like they were trembling.

 

_Omega._

 

Tony almost growled at the scent in the room; anxiety was tumbling off of the kid in heavy waves. His scent was thick and fresh, jeez, how old had Pepper said this kid was? Tony caught himself stepping towards the kid, watching him in almost slow motion do the same, before the spell was broken. Tony snapped out of his primal daze, feeling something strong pounding deep behind his eyes.

 

“Nice to meet you, Parker, was it? My pleasure really, but I have somewhere very important to be. I’m sure Pepper will be more than happy to show you around your quarters,” He pushed himself to pick his feet up and leave, straining against every muscle in his body to not rush to Peters side. “Welcome to the pack, kid.”

 

Why the _fuck_ hadn’t Pepper told him the kid was an Omega? Did she want him to have an aneurysm?

 

*

Peter shook with nerves as he followed Ms. Potts down yet another long hallway. Stark Tower felt like a horrid metal maze. But oh god, Peter still couldn’t get that man out of his mind. _Alpha._ Mr. Stark. But why had he left? Peter hadn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t… that. Mr. Stark had barely spoken to him, barely _looked_ at him. The Omega inside Peter made him feel sick, the rejection twisting in his gut like eels.

 

“Wha- Peter? Are you alright?” Ms. Potts looked at him in concern, tilting up his chin to look at her. They had stopped walking and her eyes were flicking over his face in worry. He nodded weakly, reaching up to swipe angrily at a tear he wouldn’t let fall. He had to make a good impression, he could do this. _Don’t make it any worse, Peter you idiot._

 

“Yes Ms. Potts,” he sniffled, looking into her eyes, glaring in suspicious concern.

 

“Hey, let’s go and look at your room okay? Then I can give you some space to settle in, how does that sound?” She smiled at him, turning to open the door that he hadn’t noticed next to them.

 

His mouth hung open when they walked in.

 

“Voila!” She said, making a grand gesture at the massive room. It was full of everything Peter could have ever dreamed. A vanity sat by a great window, all sorts of boxes and knickknacks scattered over its surface, spreading to all the tables and surfaces the room had to offer. He spied a huge walk in closet, a private washroom, but nothing compared to the massive bed, it was the crown jewel of the room, all decked out in red and gold, curtains falling around its massive frame. He tried not to think about what he would use it for as he turned to Ms. Potts in shock.

 

“But this can’t… this isn’t… this isn’t _my_ room, this… this is far to much you didn’t have to,” he spluttered wringing his hands. He had done nothing to deserve this, the only thing he had managed to do since he got here was disappoint an Alpha.

 

“What are you talking about? Of course this is your room,” Ms. Potts walked to the window, opening a great curtain, letting light stream into the room, bathing it in light. “I hope it’s alright, I put it together myself, but I didn’t really know what you liked,” she turned back to Peter, a slender hand on her hip.

“And I don’t know what you’re hiding in that bag, but I’m assuming it’s not a wardrobe, or at least not a very big selection, so I’ll have a tailor sent in as soon as I can to help you pick out some clothes,” Peter could feel her scrutinizing gaze on him, “Peter, I’m serious, you can tell me what’s wrong, is it something about the room?” Peter was quick to amend what she thought was distaste.

 

“No! I mean, yes, but not like that! The room is wonderful, but it’s too much, you’re far too kind, I can’t accept this,” he rocked onto the balls of his feet, hoping Ms. Potts wouldn’t be angry.

 

“Nonsense, you’re one of us,” she started heading towards the door, rubbing a friendly thumb across his cheek as she passed, “If you need or want anything at all, don’t hesitate to let me or F.R.I.D.A.Y know, okay?”

 

“Thank you so much, I can’t even begin to-“ Ms. Potts cut him off.

 

“No need kid, really. I’m gonna head out, let you recuperate, this must have been a big day for you, any questions before I go?”

 

Immediately hundreds of questions swam through Peters head, overwhelming him. He just wanted to lay down.

 

“Erm, Ms. Potts, who is Friday?” Before she could answer, a strange metallic voice rang out in the room.

 

“Hello Peter, I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y, the artificial intelligence based assistant here at Stark tower, I was created by Mr. Stark to assist the residents here. Simply speak aloud for anything you might want to speak to me about,” Peter looked about rapidly, squeaking out a quiet ‘okay’ before Ms. Potts giggled.

 

“It’s okay, it took me a while to get used to F.R.I as well, but she’s quite helpful when she’s not being a snarky little rat,” Peter was confused, he had never heard someone say such rude things in such a friendly tone. Were all Betas like this?

 

“You’re too kind, Ms. Potts,” the metallic voice echoed around the room.

 

“See you in a bit Peter, we’ll get you acquainted with the rest of the team later if you’re feeling up to it,” and with that, Peter was all alone.

 

*

“What the _fuck_ Stark!” Pepper hissed, looking honestly quite threatening, even as a Beta.

 

“Hey, hey, cool it Pep, I might ask you a similar thing,” Tony and Pepper stared each other down. “An Omega? _Really?_ I mean hey, I know communication isn’t our forte but you could've told me before I walked in there and got all-”

 

“Oh wow, good to know you were listening during all out chats, you know, the ones where I _explicitly told you, hey, Tony, this new kid is from an all Omega boarding school that he’s likely never seen the outside of so we’re going to have to work extra hard to be nice and not scare him off.”_

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, _Oh_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I had never specified how old Peter is in this story, but I've decided that to appease as many people as possible, I would leave it up to interpretation. I had thought of him on the young side of sixteen (as per MCU), if you care at all for author speculation. So from here on, it's up to you! 
> 
> That's all for now, enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> (this one's a little slow, but I need to build at lease a l i t t l e before it gets juicy) 
> 
> Lotsa love!

II.

 

Peter woke slowly, the evening light swathed over the room - pressing in on his eyes as he blinked them open. He was still wearing his clothes from the day, they felt tight and uncomfortable on his body. He was lying completely on top of all of the blankets on his bed, a hand fisted into the sheet, clenching. He released it slowly, trying to ignore the way his fingers creaked with the released pressure. His bed. He ran a hand over the silky soft fabric, smoothing out the creases he made. Is this what silk feels like? It was hard to believe, that this was his, that he was in his room, in his new home. It felt fake, honestly. He had woken up this morning in the Academy to the shrill screaming of a bell rung in his ear, and now here he was, taking a midday nap in his new Alpha’s apartment. Peter tried to remember a time he had woken up from something other than a brass bell or a nightmare, and found with a yawn he couldn’t. He slowly pushed himself upwards, eyes falling on the great window again. Lights were beginning to stand out amongst the darkening sky. All of New York lay below him silent and glimmering, it was like sitting on the dais of a great throne, the entire court sparkling and glinting, the reflections of all of their coppers and golds shining nowhere but him. He chuckled to himself, pushing away the image of himself as one of those beautiful Omegas from the stories, the ones who sat next to kings and queens. Those were stories, dreams he would have to leave behind in those old battered books he would read to the children.

Peter slipped off the high bed, his feet landing in the soft pile of a rug. It muffled his steps as he toed his way over to his mirror, taking in his disheveled appearance. As he glanced around for a lightswitch though, it hit him what the setting sun meant.

“Uh,” his voice was unsure and thick with sleep. “Ms. Friday?” he felt ridiculous, surely this wouldn't wo-

“Yes, Peter?” he paused at the sound of her voice, the shock of an actual response taking a moment to fade.

“W-what time is it?” his mind strayed anxiously to all the times Mr. Stark or Ms. Potts may have needed him while he was asleep.

“It’s thirteen minutes after seven, Peter,” he felt his stomach curl uncomfortably. How had he slept that long? What if he had missed something important? What if they were mad? “Dinner will be served soon, I was asked to inquire if you would attend,” Peter jumped at the chance to do something right, and immediately began to attempt the feat of making himself look presentable.

“Yes!” he squeaked, attaching on a quick “Thank you.”

“Wonderful, they are eagerly awaiting you in the sitting room.”

They. Peter halted the hand that had been running through the waves of his hair. Peter listed off the people he knew here: Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff… did Friday count? He nervously bit his lip, watching it flush pink in the mirror. Who would be there? Were there more? These “Avengers” … how many could there be?

 

*

Evidently quite a few.

Peter stood awestruck in the doorway of the sitting room, the ring of Friday’s metallic directions still in his ear - it would take him a while to get used to this place. In front of him was a mess of people, spread out over sofas and loveseats they all seemed to be talking and laughing over one another. One by one he watched their faces turn to him, curious eyes scanning towards him. God they could probably smell him. Peter stood there, overwhelmed with the pure scent of _Alpha_ pouring out towards him, how he managed to break it up enough to catch their attention was beyond him - even as anxious as he undoubtedly smelled.

“Peter!” It was Ms. Potts, standing up quickly to walk over to him, steering him lightly towards the group. His eyes flickered over each of their faces, not halting anywhere too long, not daring to. He could feel their stares, lingering on his face, his body. Ms. Potts spoke excitedly.

“Peter, you’ve met Nat and Tony, but allow me to introduce you to everyone else - she started to list off names, gesturing to people around the room. There was Clint Barton, with strong arms and a wolfish smile, there was Sam Wilson, a Beta with a sharp laugh, and there was Bucky Barnes, silent and brooding next to Sam. There were others, she said, Bruce Banner and Thor, off somewhere together, Steve Rogers, who was on a ‘mission’ whatever that meant, and Wanda, and Vision, and Rhodes - the names made his head spin.

“You good, kid? You look ‘bout ready to faint,” Sam called from the couch, a concerned lilt to his tone. Peter nodded rushedly, trying his very best to not throw up. There was a silence that fell over the room, everyone awkwardly glancing around, save for Peter, who looked determinately at his sock-clad feet. It was F.R.I.D.A.Y who saved them for what would have most definitely been a very badly contained panic attack on Peters part.

“Dinner has arrived,” she spoke, breaking the silence like she could understand the situation they were in. Peter wondered offhandedly if she could. Before he knew what was happening there was a spread of food in little white boxes scattered all over the table by the couches - Peter was ushered to a seat. He folded his long limbs the best he could into the small space by Bucky and Sam.

“Don’t worry kid,” brushed against his ear, carried on a hot breath. Bucky leaned forward to grab something off the table, lingering with his mouth close to Peter’s ear, “we don’t bite.”

Peter shivered. It had sounded earnest, er, as earnest as it could sound in that deep gravelly voice - but it made Peter quake. Even just that word, _bite_ , god his head was spinning - the room reeked of Alpha.

*  
He found quickly as he attempted to serve himself that he had no clue as to what was on the table. None of it even looked close to the food he had learned to make at the Academy.

Perhaps they noticed, because immediately people jumped to recommending him things, Sam even gently took the plate from his hand and loaded it with confusing looking foods. He allowed himself a moment to relax. They were trying to help him - this at least, was something he was prepared for.

Peter let a warm “Thank you,” fall from his mouth as he took his plate back from Sam, looking up briefly into his eyes. Sam was a Beta, but Peter was putting on his show. The others could see just fine.

These new people, they were odd. They ate quickly and talked loudly. They laughed and teased and made references Peter couldn’t ever hope to understand. It felt like a family, Peter thought. This haphazard group of Alphas seemed to, just get along. It was confusing and exhilarating.

Peter stayed quiet, slowly picking at his meal, the spices new and strong, and just listened and watched. He could see the little paths between them. The way that Sam and Bucky seemed to relentlessly jab at each other over Peter on the couch, kind smiles on their faces, and the way that Clint and Ms. Romanov, Natasha, always seemed to overlap their stories, as if most had been shared. He noticed the way Mr. Stark managed to always keep himself at the centre of attention, and seemed to pay attention to everyone except for Peter, never once sparing him a glance. He noticed too the way there seemed to be gaps - the way they talked about a man named Banner, a sort of offhanded grief. They missed him, wherever he was. He noticed the way that whenever they mentioned ‘Steve’, that Bucky would shift next to him. Tensing and fidgeting like he couldn’t sit still at his very mention. They were all fascinating to observe, that is, until they turned the conversation to him.

“So! Peter! Tony told us a little bit, but we’re all dying to know what you can really do,” Clint was looking at him excitedly, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Wanna give us a little demonstration?”

“I- uh… er,” Peter stumbled, shocked out the corner of their background he had blended into. He found feel his face flaming with heat, and he could feel his stomach twist with fear. Mr. Stark had told them about him, what had he said? Oh god what did they expect him to do? They couldn’t expect anything too… they wouldn’t make hi-

“Barton!” Natasha snapped, a certain bite in her voice Peter assumed must be an Alpha quality - it hadn’t even been directed at him and it made him jump. “Cool it, would you? The kid just got here,” She looked over to him, folded neatly and pressed deep into the cushions between Sam and Bucky. He tried his best to clear his throat, a deep part of his brain scrambling at the opportunity to please.

“It’s alright, Ms. Romanov,” Peter turned to face Mr. Barton, Clint, attempting to will away his blush, a last ditch attempt attempt at confidence. “Mr. Barton is just curious,” Peter could feel his chest heaving as he moved to stand up.

“ _Sit down_ ,” she commanded, and Peter was immediately scrambling back into his seat. There was a sudden tenseness to the room - she had slipped into her Alpha voice. It passed quickly, wiped away with a sharp laugh that seemed to jump from mouth to mouth.

“Who knew Nat had a motherly side,” Sam laughed, perhaps a touch less aware of the awkward Alpha slip up than the rest.

“Har har, Wilson,” and then, quieter, “Sorry, Peter, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Peter looked to his lap, heat on his face. She was using the voice he was used to using on the little Omegas at the Academy. He could feel the warmth spread from his cheeks to his chest the more he thought about it. Maybe the people here weren’t so frightening after all.

*

Three days.

It had been three days since Bucky had seen the new one.

He knew he was there, of course. Between the little whispers exchanged between nervous Alphas at the coffee pot and the creeping scent of Omega - his presence was obvious, but still, Bucky found himself wondering if he was there at all, if anyone could stay tucked behind a door for so long.

This was the first one Stark had ever brought as far as the tower. There had been others they had heard of, people with powers, people who could do things, people like _them_. But this one, there must be something truly special if Stark had brought him here, taken the risk to bring someone who looked so fragile and soft into a world so dangerous.

It was on the fourth morning, when Bucky saw Peter again. He was with Natasha, curled close to her on the couch, his wide eyes glued to the television. They were speaking quietly, hushed questions of ‘what is that?’ ‘what does that mean?’ ‘how do they make the pictures _move_ like that?’ were spilling out of the boy. He listened to Natasha respond to each with care, thinking back to Sam’s comment on her having a motherly side. Sam would have loved to see this. But as Bucky watched them from the kitchen he felt a pang of familiarity. It had been him once, too, not understanding what a television was. But even he had had Steve, a beacon that screamed safe and home and warm to guide him through the first while. This kid, he had no one, nothing. He had come from one of those places, the kind where they had tried to send Steve, and now he only had whatever it was they had put in his head. Bucky tapped the flour sifter against the palm of his hand, trying not to let his thoughts linger on Steve too long. He moved, going to set the sifter down, but instead found himself sending his bowl of soon to be cookies smashing on the floor. He felt a growl of _‘fuck’_ crawl out from his throat.

As if from nowhere, Peter appeared by his side, kneeling delicately where Bucky crouched angrily, attempting to sweep glass to the side with his metal hand.

“Let me, sir,” and Peter was gently sweeping the glass and flour into a dustpan. Where the fuck had the kid found a broom so quickly? Bucky didn’t even know where the brooms were kept, and Peter had been here less than a week.

“Peter,” Natasha leaned gently on the kitchen island to peer at them on the floor, “Barnes is fully capable of cleaning up his own mess, I’m sure.”

Bucky watched the kid peer up through his mop of hair to smile at her.

“Oh of course,” Peter turned to him, a flash of anxiety in the crinkle of his eyes, “I didn’t mean to overstep, I just thought I could help…” he looked nervously to the pan and brush in his hands, “I asked Friday a while ago to show where these things were just in case, I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, you know.”

Peter knew that there was a multitude of people and robots at Stark Tower that would be more than happy to help him clean, right? How Peter had even managed to make it over to Bucky before one of Tony’s little creations scampered in was a mystery.

“Thanks, Peter,” Bucky smiled, “Really though, ‘sno problem, I got it.”

Bucky watched as Peter attempted to brush the dusting of flour from his hands, suddenly freezing. His eyebrows shot up and he looked to Bucky with wide eyes.

“Are you… baking?” Bucky tried to hold back the frown. He had really had enough of people taking one look at him and assuming he couldn’t bake. Just because he was an Alpha on the rougher side didn’t mean he couldn’t make a mean batch of oatmeal cookies.

“Yeah, uh,” he didn’t quite know what to say, if he chewed this kid out he could only imagine the whooping he’s get from Pepper.

Peter on the other hand, looked like he had a million words he was trying to keep from spilling out of his mouth. Bucky caught a tinge of anxious Omega on the air between them.

“Mr. Barnes, I… you… you don’t have to, I can do this for you, I didn’t know you wanted…” Peter looked around hopelessly, “Er, what are you making?” Peter’s cheeks were flaming red.

Bucky let out a confused and quiet ,“oatmeal cookies,” only to watch Peter scamper to his feet.

“Great!” Peter grabbed another bowl from the cupboard with ease, spinning around the kitchen and collecting more ingredients. Bucky wondered just how many things Peter had asked Friday about. What was this kid doing?

“Peter,” Bucky stood up, “what the _hell_ are you doing?” they made eye contact over the bag of oats in Peter’s hands.

“Making oatmeal cookies? I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier, I would have been happy to make them, really, my apologies, I know I’ve been a terrible-” Natasha cut off the kid’s rambling.

“Peter,” She started calmly, “Slow down, you’re talking a mile a minute,” she glanced at Bucky, who looked just as confused as her.

“Sorry, sorry,” he set the bag of oatmeal down, fumbling around with spoons and measuring cups as he averted his gaze downwards.

“You don’t gotta help me, kid,” Bucky felt a deep crease forming on his forehead.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble, I feel like I haven’t done anything at all the whole time I’ve been here, I swear they taught me how to bake, so now that I’m here you don’t have to.”

There was an odd echo in Bucky’s mind, a vision of delicate Omegas in aprons with curlers in their hair. It had been a common sight, what, back then. That idea of a sweet and tender homemaker, someone to cook and clean and care. He had felt the fear of that image in Steve, in the tight way he clutched his hand, the way he begged Bucky to take him with him to the war. He hadn’t really thought about modern Omegas, he hadn’t seen any here, he hadn’t had the chance to, before Peter. But _surely_ the world was different now. So much else was. Bucky wondered if the secrets of what happened inside those places was as tightly guarded a secret as it used to be, he wondered, if he asked, if the others would even know what Peter had been through. It was feeling increasingly as if everyone was in the dark as Bucky. Huh, what a concept.

There was a moment, where all three of them stood there, simply looking between each other. An odd tenseness hung in the air, Peters eyes were moving frantically. There was the soft clink of the measuring cup on the marble counter and Bucky watched Peter start to back away.

“I… you…” the smell of anxiety was suddenly thick, “I should go, I messed up,” Peter’s eyes were wide, and he scrambled from the room with a faint ‘sorry’ on his lips.

Bucky looked to Natasha, flour on his hands and not an ounce of a clue what had just happened. Her face held no more information than he had.

“What. The - ”

“Fuck.”

 

*

There were tear marks on his face before he got to his room. He could feel the gritty scratch of the flour on his hands as he tried to wipe at his cheeks. He closed the door to his room, trying to keep his breathing even - if he let himself go he knew they would smell him. He sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers digging into the side of his ribcage. _Breathe in, breathe out_. His mind was racing a mile a minute, he tried to trace over the interaction to look for where he messed up, what he could learn from, what he could to better to please next time. But that’s the thing, he couldn’t find where he had messed up. At first he’d felt awful that Mr. Barnes, an _Alpha_ , had had to bake for himself, that was a job for someone like Peter. They had been so kind to him here, he hadn’t helped at all yet! It had seemed like the perfect opportunity to please and show off his skills. But, when he had tried, there was resistance. Had Mr. Barnes _wanted_ to bake on his own? Had Peter crossed some sort of line? His eyes were growing blurry again with the tears he didn’t want to let fall. God he wished it wasn’t this easy to make him cry. Everything had been going so well before… Ms. Natasha (It still felt wrong to just call her Nat, no matter how much she protested) had _asked_ him to spend time with her, said she wanted to get to know him and get him out of his room. It had been so unexpected and kind and he had ruined it. But that was the thing, he thought, she had asked him, that must be it. Okay, he thought in resolve, just don’t do anything they don’t ask for. He steeled himself, sniffing loudly, desperately resisting the urge to wipe his tears on the sleeve of his new sweater.

As it turns out, however, only acting when prompted leaves Peter helplessly stranded within his room.

*

There were many things Peter had anticipated in his new home. He knew his new life would be different, no lessons, no inspections, no pups (yet), and of course there were so many new aspects, but those, those Peter had been _trained_ for. What he did not anticipate, was the crushing, soul sucking loneliness.

Living in Stark tower had quickly become a silent and empty chrome plated nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked this! I can't quite predict when the next chapter will be up, but I'm d e f i n a t e l y aiming for quicker than this one, the start of second semester really hit hard. See you then! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> oh! and if you have any questions about the logistics of the world or anything else you'd like to suggest/ask me about I'd be happy to hear from you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers get a visit from a friend and Peter finds himself falling into a heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Spring Break! (if you're on break like me) 
> 
> I just wanted to let everyone know I now have a tumblr! Feel free to follow me there for updates on this story, communication, drabbles and such! (feel free to send me suggestions for this story or other prompts there!) 
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr!](https://summerhare.tumblr.com/)
> 
> xoxo

**III.**

  
  


The sun rose over Peter, a simple but familiar thing. He watched the colours shift and change from between the drapes of his canopy bed, his ears still tucked inside, his face peering out. He clutched the heavy fabric in his hands. Something felt, _different_ , that morning. It was so slight, such a minute change in the air, but Peter could feel it in his _bones._ Something had changed, in the place where nothing seemed to break form the cyclical momentum of what Peter could only assume was mundane life. The whole tower thrummed with a delicate kind of energy that moring, so much so that Peter found himself aching to go see what had changed. He had been in his room this time for what felt like so long, watched the sunrise alone and high up for what felt like ages longer than its true six days. What was honestly worse than the actual isolation itself was the very notion of the thing. An Omega, young and fresh, in a building _bursting_ with Alphas, and he was all alone. Not one, since Ms. Natasha, had come to see him. Never once had they spared him enough thought to speak to him, let alone utilize his talents. It was difficult, to not feel ungrateful for all that he had, as he stared at his ceiling, listening to the hum of the building beneath his body, listening to the faint laughter of the Alphas that didn’t _want_ him. 

 

But today there was something else, something new and bright that had Peter slipping out of his room and into the hallway before he could even realize what he was doing. He padded lightly towards the main room of the penthouse, following the airy sounds of conversation. There was something scratching at the back of his skull, a dampened ‘ _no! Stop! Go back!’_ but it was drowned out by whatever mysterious force was pulling him towards the others. As he stepped into the room, it hit him. 

 

_Omega._

 

He looked frantically around, scanning for what he finally knew was there. His eyes passed over them all, Ms. Natasha, Mr. Barnes, Ms. Potts, Mr. Barton, Mr. Wilson, _Mr. Stark,_ finally landing on another, almost blurred with how quickly he was rushing towards Peter. 

 

The man smacked into Peter with a whumph, enclosing him in a tight hug, padded by a soft sweater. The scent of Omega was so strong and sweet it was almost disorienting. Peter hugged back, unable to bring himself to care who this was, only that they smelled like home and comfort and safety.

 

*

Bruce backed out of the hug, pushing himself to separate from the small Omega in his arms. He tried his best to stumble out an apology, still clutching onto the boys shoulders.

 

“Sorry, sorry, you have no idea who I am, I shouldn’t have done that, uh,” Bruce smiled in an attempt to soothe the soft brown eyes he was looking into, but quickly realized they were lighting up with a smile of their own. “You must be Peter,” he found himself staring into the deep bags on Peter’s face as he bobbed his head in a nod. Peter looked exhausted, his face gaunt and pale. “I’m Bruce Banner,” he brushed a hand into Peters hair, abandoning all pretenses of personal space in favour of listening to the Omega inside of him that yearned to protect this boy, to hold him close and never let him go. Peter leaned into his touch and the world around them completely melted away. It was rare, Bruce knew, for the other Avengers to be anything alike background spectators in a situation - he relished it while he could, although didn’t miss the implications that came along with it. They had absolutely no idea how to behave around Peter.

 

*

 

“Jesus, Tony!” Bruce slammed the door behind his as he walked into the room full of his friends. “Do you even feed the kid? First you sick a pack of Alphas on him, and then you don’t even take care of him?” He was fuming, breathing heavily with a hand clutching the side of the bar.

 

“Woah there Bruce, firstly, we _do_ feed him, Jarvis is in charge of that when he doesn't want to come out, and secondly, come on Brucie, spare a little love for your comrades, Alphas? That’s just cold,” Tony joked, a glass of something amber and expensive looking in front of him. The others sat in similar states of mild inebriation around him, it was always a party when Bruce came back from Asgard. But _not_ this time. At first he thought the news was wonderful, they had rescued an enhanced Omega from one of those awful training schools, a young one too, Bruce thought that finally this kid might be able to knock some Omegan sensibility into them. But _no._ When he had arrived he had found Peter, sweet lovely Peter, afraid to leave his room and face the Alphas that awaited outside. Not to mention the kid was as thin as a pole. He voiced as much to the others. 

 

“He was like that when he got here, looked as if he was about to break if we breathed in his direction,” Sam said, as always he was blissfully unaware of the extreme amount of uncomfortable pheromones in the room.

 

“Did he really say he was frightened of us?” Bruce turned as Bucky spoke. Bucky had always had a softer side that Bruce had appreciated.

 

“No, not outright. But he is clearly under the impression he is indebted to you all somehow, said he didn’t want to mess up after all you gave him; which, at the moment I’m struggling to grasp, the only thing that I can see you’ve given the kid is anxiety,” He looked at Tony, and had he not known him long enough he would have missed the troubled look on his face.

 

“You’ve always been better at this than us,” Natasha spoke with a sadness in her voice, “The whole people thing. We’re a minute from being at _eachothers_ throats as it is, another person, a new _Omega…”_

 

“She’s right, Brucie,” Wow, shocker, Clint agreeing with Nat, “we need you back, or Steve; someone who knows this stuff,” Bruce softened at Clint’s words. He knew they were all trying their best, they just had no clue how to handle this. Him and Steve… they had been adults, Omegas raised hidden from those horrid schools. But Peter…

 

“You know I can’t just come back, with Odin gone, Thor…”

 

“We know, we know, you’re mated to a king it’s all very regal and romantic,” Tony was looking into the depths of his drink. “It’s funny, you know,” he got to his feet with a wry smile, “how many times is it that we saved the world?” he began stalking out of the room, “And yet we can’t figure out how to deal with a teenage Omega.”

 

*

 

Bruce was gone by the morning, the only evidence he had been there at all was new smattering of pillows and blankets scattered around the compound. They always seemed to seep out of the woodworks when he was there, Bucky didn’t realize they _had_ that many comforters. But something was off this morning, something past the general uncomfortableness after last nights… discussion. It was something that crept under Bucky's skin, poked at the backs of his eyes, stuck beneath his nails. Everything was off, and everybody knew it. Well, almost everyone. Sam sat on the couch of the penthouse, looking up from his phone to grunt a ‘good morning’ to Bucky. Once some of the others had filtered through, all in the same apparent state of discomfort as Bucky found himself in, Sam decided to pipe up again.

 

“So you gonna tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with everyone, or what?” Sam pointed him with a look that clearly communicated his usual viewpoint of ‘ _I don’t know what the fuck is up with you guys and as a Beta I would prefer not to be bothered by it but I’m a nosey bitch’_ (well, maybe Bucky added the nosey bitch part to Sam’s usual lecture, but it was true.) 

 

“Dunnow,” He said, settling on the couch across from Sam, coffee in hand. It was easier to deal with things like this with coffee. Bucky new from experience.

 

“Well something is up, everyone’s got a sketchy look about ‘em,” Bucky thought back on Natasha’s continual side glances as she made her breakfast, yeah, sketchy wasn’t too far off. Anxious could work too.

 

“I feel like I should go check on Peter,” Bucky paused, running possibilities of what was happening through his mind, yeah, checking on Peter sounded like a good idea, “I’m sure nothing is wrong, but better safe than sorry,” he stood up to leave, sad to say goodbye to the newly cushioned and blanketed couch.

 

*

 

Peter felt his chest seize as he attempted to take in another shuddering breath. All the curtains to his bed were thrown back, as much as he loved the comfort of them, it was getting _hot._ He had all the blankets on his bed pulled up from their tucks and bunched up around him, somewhere between the fitful dreams and the feverish temperature he was feeling, everything had become a mess in his general vicinity. But as he lay there and pitied himself for being left alone by Dr. Banner, and getting mad at himself for wanting the man to stay away from his own Alpha just for Peter, he was struck by a sudden urge to spend time with his _own_ Alpha (whether that was Mr. Stark or not confused Peter, but even just thinking the mans name had him jumping out of bed). And hey, the last time he had ventured out things had gone great, maybe he was on a lucky streak. Pausing to let the dizziness of standing up, Peter didn’t wait any longer to wonder why he was dizzy, he was already creeping down the hallway from his room towards where he hoped the others were. He had to pause again though, another bout of dizziness struck him, his hand found the wall and he hissed at how cold it was. Even if he had considered it, Peter probably wouldn’t have been able to stomach putting on more clothes than the oversized shirt he was wearing; he was boiling hot already, autumn weather be damned. 

 

*

 

Bucky padded his way to Peter’s room, the anxious feeling in his gut only clenching more the closer he got.

 

Now, there were not many times in the confines of the tower that Bucky found himself thankful for his training, less often than they came in handy he found them to be a nuisance, hearing conversations he didn’t want to, walking too quietly and startling someone But now, as he could her the soft slip of Peters feet on the floor and the delicate rattle of his breath he was thankful; Peter rounded the corner where Bucky was paused, and if they had both still been moving they would have collided, the more Bucky looked at Peter he realized Peter didn’t look as if he could handle bumping into a person. He looked ready to collapse as it was.

 

And again, if it wasn’t for Bucky’s quick movements, he would have. Peter locked eyes with Bucky and something in them flared, Bucky watched as if in slow motion as Peter’s knees buckled underneath him. Bucky caught him, a startled shout of “Peter!” on his lips. As he supported the boy enough to lower them to the floor.

He clutched the boy in his arms as Natasha rounded the corner at a sprint; the glint of her knife matched the flicker in her eye. Bucky looked at her frantically, an understanding between them that seemed almost more terrifying in that moment than something Natasha would have needed steel for.

 

_Heat._

 

*

 

“Fuck,” Tony was pacing rapidly, running a hand through his hair, “ _Fuck,”_ he gritted out, far too loud than was necessary for everyone huddled in the lab to hear. This room was quarantined, safe. Tony didn’t want to think about whether they were keeping Peter out or keeping them in. 

 

“Cool it Stark,” Natasha leaned against the wall, not a hair out of place to give away any kind of distress. _God_ , sometimes Tony hated living with trained assassins. 

 

“The kid’s in fucking _heat._ We can’t even take care of him properly when everything is normal,” there was a smile hidden in his tone of voice, one that spoke more to hysterics than humor. 

 

“Well I mean, it’s not like this is rocket science, there’s gotta be something we can do about this,” Clint spoke up, Tony was in a room full of fucking optimists and he was about to have a panic attack. Why had Pepper ever thought this was a good idea. Fuck, an _Omega._

 

“Well as it happens, unlike rocket science, I don’t have a degree in dealing with superpowerd Omegas in heat, so if you have any suggestions, in all fucking ears,” Tony sat down roughly on a spinny chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. He could still smell the kid in here, it wasn’t helping that Barnes reeked of him. He could feel that familiar shake in his hands he despised, an engineer's nightmare. How the others could act so nonchalant about all of this infuriated him, Omegas had always been the one thing he never allowed himself, too pure, too good for him. He had barely met one before Peter, not that he had done much more than meet Peter either. But the very thought of Peter terrified him, Tony was horrified to his core by how much he craved him. _Peter_ he found his mind chanting. _Omega._

 

“You’re all idiots you know that right? We’ve got someone in this very room that has dealt with this,” Wilson had his hands in his pockets, leisurely watching the Alphas around him break down. Tony stopped, when had Wilson ever had to deal with an Omega in heat? Wait, not Wilson…

 

“Buck’s done this a million times with Steve right?”

 

Tony immediately turned his attention on Barnes, a pained look on the man's face as he looked to the ground.

 

“Well, I mean, I know what to do in a sense, but I don’t think it’s what you’re… looking for” he spoke, his voice low and gruff.

 

The room went quiet, all eyes trying to scan for more information. Then, it clicked for Tony.

 

“ _Jesus Christ_ man, no one’s gonna _fuck_ the kid,” he spat, anger infusing itself into every fibre of his being. The thought of anyone, (of anyone _else,_ he wouldn’t let himself think) touching the kid… it made him sick. 

 

“Easy tiger,” Natasha was next to him then, a firm hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, he had to keep himself in order. She squeezed tighter.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,  lock the doors both ways to Mr. Parkers room, no one in or out.”

 

“Tony are you sure that’s a good idea…” Natasha watched him stand and move to storm away. Tony needed to be alone. He needed a drink.

 

“You got a better one?”

 

*

 

Peter came to back in his bed, placed delicately atop his mess of blankets. He had gone out, and then… he remembers seeing Mr. Barnes, remembers being in his arms. He had been carried back to his room, the scent of Alpha overwhelming in its sweet pungency. Peter curled into himself, he knew this feeling.

 

He was going into heat.

 

He groaned, absentmindedly trying to pull his blankets closer despite the heat he felt curling off of him. Breathe, Peter. You’ve done this before. He had gone through is first heat a few months prior, he spent most of it crying in desperation for something he didn’t know, something he supposedly had now. Eventually Peter will be able to predict his heats, they start to follow a natural schedule. But this was only his second ever, they were bound to be irregular, not to mention the excess of Alpha hormones in the tower surely couldn't be helping. He smiled, that’s right, he was in a tower full of Alphas. Maybe one of them would come see him… maybe this was finally his chance to seduce one of them like he was supposed to. Bucky had left him here… but surely he was coming back…

 

“Mr. Parker, I should inform you that your room has been locked in both directions,” Friday’s calm voice surprised him. Jeez, had she always been that loud? Maybe he was just more sensitive.

 

“Can you be a little quieter Ms. Friday?” He mumbled out, not quite grasping what she had said.

 

“Of course,” she said, much quieter this time. But hold on, wait, his door was locked? Why? That must be a mistake… who would lock his doors?

 

“Wha? Wait… why,” He paused, trying to clear his foggy mind. He settled on a simple “Who?”

 

“I was instructed by Mr. Stark.”

 

*

  
Peter stared at the top of his canopy, tears tracing familiar paths down towards his ears. He squirmed and clutched at the bed in pain. It had been hours, hours of one thought moving through his mind on repeat. _No one wants me._ He was in heat, a highly trained Omega in a den teeming with Alphas, and none of them wanted him. They were disgusted by him, he thought, tossing a glance to his door. Still locked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I hope you enjoyed that! I expect the next chapter will be going up v e r y soon, as soon as I can finish it! (I'm pretty excited about this next one, get ready for another guest appearance! plus?? some action?? you'll just have to wait and see <3) 
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr!](https://summerhare.tumblr.com/) <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter everybody! I've had it written for ages and have been trying to get it to a place I like, so sorry for the wait! it's still kinda iffy, in my opinion if feels a bit rushed, but I want to get started on the next one. 
> 
> P.S. keep an eye out for an extra little spinoff from this chapter, things might get a little less PG ;)  
> (I'll probably be posting that on my [tumblr](https://summerhare.tumblr.com/), so follow me there!) 
> 
> See ya on the flip side! Addie xx

 

It was days before Peter heard Friday’s soft declaration of  “The doors to your room have been unlocked, Mr. Parker” followed by the softed rap of knuckles announcing someone else's presence. He could imagine Mr. Stark standing there, knocking quietly for him in the middle of the night… but when the door pushed open a man Peter didn’t recognise was standing there. 

 

“Can I come in?” 

Peter nodded dumbly, sitting up on weak arms. This man was… massive, to say the least. He would have been intimidating enough if he hadn’t been covered in cuts and bruises, but as he passed through the light of Peter’s window he saw the man painted in fading purple and yellow. Peter watched as he smiled, his eyes were bright, blue maybe? Peter couldn't quite tell in the dark, but he could see a certain softness in them. He also couldn’t quite bring himself to be scared of the man. Perhaps he was just too tired to. 

 

Wait… 

 

“You’re an Omega,” he realized, his voice barely a whisper after so much disuse. 

 

“Yeah,” the man chuckled, “I guess there’s no need to ask what you are,” Peter saw him look over the room they were in. It was absolutely trashed, and Peter sat in the middle of it in his perfect messy little nest. He watched the man sit down on the edge of his bed, close enough that Peter could smell him now, a warm earthy smell that reminded Peter of the summer breeze that managed to come through the old windows at the academy. It was soothing balm on the cut of his fading heat. 

 

“I’m Steve, it’s nice to finally meet you, Peter,” the man, Steve, reached out a hand to shake Peters, but instead Peter found himself throwing himself into the man’s arms. Steve let out a little  _ Oomph  _ but caught Peter easily. Peter buried his nose in the man’s neck and breathed deeply, selfishly searching for the contact he had been longing for. He didn’t know the man, but he needed this, for him. The world felt like it was doused in honey, thick and slow. Every movement was a struggle, like being underwater in a dream. He tried to focus on the arms around him, selfishly stealing contact from this man. He didn’t seem to mind. 

 

So this was the Steve that everyone was talking about. 

 

After a hug that lasted probably longer than average, Peter nodded along to Steve’s soft little,  _ Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.  _

 

Steve helped Peter up and to the shower, checking the temperature until he deemed it right for Peter and setting out a fluffy towel. He ducked out with a smile then, a light joke about Peter being old enough to shower on his own lingering in his wake. 

 

Peter let the water run over his face, barely feeling it even as he knew it was getting in his eyes and mouth. A shaky sigh mixed with steam and he couldn't help but wonder if there were tears on his face too. He wanted to sit down, to relax. He was too tired to move though, so he stood standing, not bothering to scrub at his body. 

 

He felt filthy, days of heat had made his skin sticky and chapped, his muscles tense from the pain of no relief. They had just _left him._

 

Peter found himself staring at the shower wall in shock. He had jumped so quickly to… to anger. It went against everything he had been trained to feel. And honestly, as awful as he knew it had been of him to think of… it felt  _ good.  _

 

Damn, it felt good. How dare they? 

 

He stopped himself there, reaching out a slippery hand to shut off the water. Leave those thoughts there Peter, he told himself. Stepping out onto hard tile. 

 

When Peter emerged, fluffy towel wrapped around him up to his shoulders, he found his room tidy and his bed made, a smiling Steve turning from looking out the window. 

 

“I think Tony gave you the second best view in the tower, mine is nothing like this,” Steve gestured toward the pile of clothes he has laid out for Peter, turning back to the window. “I promise I wont look,” Steve said, “But I can leave if you want me to.” 

 

“S’fine,” Peter mumbled, slipping into the comfy blue sweater. Clad in his fresh clothes he moved to climb back in bed, the feeling of gratitude only rising when he realized Steve had changed his sheets too. “I’m all good,” he called meekly to Steve, prompting him to pull his eyes away from the Manhattan skyline, and join him on the edge of the bed again. “Thank you,” Peter said, hoping the earnestness shone through his tired voice. He was confused, of course, why was this man, Steve, here? This was lovely but… who would care enough to tell him about Peter? The Alphas clearly didn’t want him… why keep him fresh? 

 

“Of course,” Steve said, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, ” he put his hand on Peters wet hair, gently stroking the heavy curls, “Trust me, I know how this feels.” 

 

Then there was another knock, Peter’s door opening to reveal another person. Peter jolted upright this time, hands clutching at his comforter. 

 

Bucky walked slowly into the room, shutting the door behind him. God, this is probably what Steve was cleaning him up for, this was  _ it.  _ Maybe Peter was wrong before, there was just something he didn’t understand yet. But somehow, as much as Peter had wished for this, or something like this, he found himself terrified. The thick foggy honey had drained from his mind, adrenaline stuffed in its place. 

 

“Shhh, hey, hey it’s okay,” Steve moved closer to him, wrapping his massive hand around Peters little one that was still gripping his blanket. “It’s okay Peter, it’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you,” Steve moved one hand to pull down the neck of his shirt, “he’s taken.” 

 

Peter stared at the deep and faded claiming mark on Steve’s neck, gently reaching out a shaky hand to touch it. He could see Bucky approaching closer in his peripheral. Steve was Bucky’s Omega… that all made so much sense now. 

 

“How long…” Peter mumbled, running his finger delicately over the mark. It looked so  _ old,  _ they must have gotten together young. Steve turned to look at Bucky, one of those loving and tender looks on his face that made Peter melt. 

 

“Sometime it feels like a hundred years,” he smiled. Bucky smiled back. 

 

Peter was struck with a sudden yearning for someone to look at him like that, for someone to care about him that strongly and deeply. He could feel it in his chest, like someone had hollowed out everything under his ribs and he was just now realizing.   

 

Steve turned back to him with that lazy kind of smile he was sure was because of Bucky and gave his hand a squeeze. 

 

“I've got to go away again, I’m not really supposed to be here now…” Peter thought back to the others mentioning Steve was on a ‘mission’... he still had no clue what that meant. 

 

“Why  _ are  _ you here now?” Peter looked up with an apology written on his face; he hoped Steve wasn’t here just for him, he must have been doing something important. 

 

“You’ve got that lug over there to thank,” Steve tossed his head towards Bucky, still standing by the end of Peter’s bed with what looked like an attempt at a comforting smile. “He asked me to come help, I’m sorry I couldn’t get here until now.” 

 

Peter settled back on his mountain of pillows, feeling the tiredness in his limbs. “Thank you,” he breathed out, not really sure who he was directing it at. 

 

“I’ve got to go again, duty calls,” Steve joked, “but while I’m gone I need you to know that you can go to Bucky for help,” he leaned in a little closer, “I know he seems scary,” Steve whispered, “but he’s a big softie if you give him time,” he put his hand back on Peter’s head, smoothing down the curls, “If he can’t help you then he knows how to get in contact with me.” 

 

Peter nodded, hoping the two could see his grateful smile in the dark. 

 

“If you need anything at all, go to Bucky.” 

 

*

 

It was a shock to the others, to say the least when Peter appeared in their midst. Natasha saw the others before she saw him, Clint, coffee forgotten in front of him, eyes bugging, Sam, eagerly waving her in. There was another mug, she noticed. Evidently Tony hadn’t stuck around for whatever the others saw. 

 

When she rounded the corner, she will admit that a chipper Peter Parker sitting on the counter was not what she had been expecting. She took in the scene before her, Bucky, squinting at whatever he was making, Peter, chatting his ear off about… she listened closer… prune pudding? 

 

Oh. Of course. 

 

She stepped over to them, not missing the little catch in Peter’s voice. 

 

She spoke in Russian. 

 

_ “And how is Steve?”  _ She asked, raising a brow at Bucky. She saw Peter look at her quizzically. Bucky chuckled. 

 

_ “There’s no point in asking how you knew, right?”  _ he answered back, tapping a wooden spoon off on his bowl. 

 

_ “Ah, where’s the fun in that?”  _ Natasha grabbed a prune, popping it in her mouth. Bucky had tells. The Winter Soldier less so, but  _ Bucky,  _ the man was a veritable gold mine in the eyes of a Russian spy. He always craved food from the 30s when Steve was around. 

 

Hence, prune pudding. 

 

“It’s good to see you, Peter,” she said, not bothering to make the boy uncomfortable with eye contact. She had been told she was intense. 

 

She was glad Bucky had managed to befriend Peter. The Avengers were easier to deal with if you had an ally, and leave it to Steve to make connections overnight. 

  
  


Things started to get better, from then. Peter became a recognizable face within the tower, someone who would pop up and disappear with a shy smile and a wave. Figuratively, and literally. It was a wonder to Natasha how much eagerness could be stored in such an anxious and compact person. 

 

He seemed attached to Barned at the hip, following him around like he was on a leash. It made sense, Natasha thought, that he would gravitate towards the only mated Alpha. Comfort and safety. Not something she had necessarily associated with Barnes, but something she understood nonetheless. 

 

*

 

_ Mated.  _ Peter reminded himself, watching Bucky (he didn’t really notice when he dropped ‘Mr. Barnes’) laugh along with the others. They all sat together (minus Mr. Stark, as per usual) and were laughing and joking. Peter even found himself smiling along with the rest at the story Mr. Barton was telling. It felt nice, it felt good. It felt almost like family. But there was something else. It felt like failure. What had it been, a month? And the only one that Peter felt truly close to was  _ mated.  _ They had brought him here for a reason, for his  _ ‘special talents’  _  Ms. Potts had made it clear from the beginning, he had been trained for it nearly his whole life… ever since the accident that took his parents the Academy has been his home. They had trained him, trained him  _ well. _ And yet, here he sat, knowing he would sleep alone in his bed. Knowing that whatever he had to offer was clearly unwanted. 

 

“You’re thinking too hard  _ малыш,”  _ Ms. Natasha whispered in his ear. He sat squished between her and Bucky. He understood more of the sentiment of the pet name than the actual meaning, turning to her with a soft smile. 

 

“Just tired.” 

 

She hummed in response, nodding in an understanding way. It seemed like the other were on the same wavelength, all filtering out within the hour. Eventually it was just him and Bucky, some movie playing on the TV that Bucky would swear to high hell he put on for Peter, but they both saw the way his eyes were glued to the screen.  _ Sue me,  _ he had once said,  _ I like romcoms, okay?  _

 

Peter leaned further into his side, Bucky shifted to pull him closer. 

 

Natasha be damned, he kept slipping into deeper thoughts. Bucky was mated yes… but Steve had been gone so long. Peter thought about Steve’s strong jaw, how stubble had mixed with deep bruises. Peter had long since stopped imagining what Steve had done to garner them and instead switched to what he had done to earn an Alpha. Peter touched his own jaw, imagining what it would be like with stubble, what his eyes would look like if they were blue, what he would look like in Bucky’s arms. He leaned closer, close enough that his nose nearly brushed Bucky’s neck. He let the smell wash over him, overwhelm him. There was that hint of summer air, hidden somewhere in it, but it was faint, so soft it barely existed. It had been so long since Bucky had seen his Omega… 

 

Peter’s fingers ghosted over Bucky’s bicep. Barely a touch. He didn’t react. Shaky fingers found the delicate fall of Bucky’s hair, pushing it back from his face. Bucky only seemed to readjust. It spurred Peter on. He reached out a slender hand for Bucky’s zipper, he was so  _ close.  _ But Peter’s hand was stopped by another. Bucky’s hand clenched tight around Peter’s wrist, holding it with such pressure that it was hard to believe it was even made of flesh. 

 

_ “Please,”  _ Peter whispered, “Let me help you, your Omega has been gone for so long.” 

 

Bucky was frozen, gripping Peter so tightly he was sure he would have bruises. 

 

“I can feel how much you miss him, you don’t even have to scent me; pretend I’m him, please, let me help you, you’ve been so kind to me,” Peter pleaded, softly trying to pull his hand away.

 

Bucky clenched harder, seemingly jolting out of whatever shock he was in.  

 

“Look, kid,” he growled, “I don’t know what kind of fucked up shit they taught you at that school, but it’s not like that here,” he let go of Peter, standing up roughly, “not with me, not with anyone.” 

 

Peter was shocked, he’d done something wrong,  _ god _ he’d done something wrong again. Tears were already hot in his eyes, shame and terror filling his senses at displeasing an Alpha. At displeasing  _ Bucky.  _

 

He jumped up, head down as he felt tears spill onto the floor, unable to take the scent of an angry Alpha.  _ Sorry _ s were falling from his mouth, strangled and panicked. He ran from the room, hoping to everything that was good that he hadn’t just lost a friend. 

 

*

 

“F.R.I, Parker status?” Tony buttoned up his shirt, trying not to look at his reflection in the mirror (if he couldn’t  _ see  _ the dark circles they weren’t there, right?).

 

“Mr. Parker is in his room sir,” perfect, Tony thought, slipping out of his own room. It’s not like he was  _ hiding  _ from the kid, more like… yeah he was hiding from him. 

 

He’d almost brought it up to Pepper once, his mind addled by whiskey - and thank god he hadn’t, he could basically hear her response. 

 

_ “Tony you’re being ridiculous.”  _ god it was like he could feel her glare “ _ I can’t believe you, he’s a  _ **_kid_ ** _ Tony. Can you really not even keep it in your pants enough to be professional?”  _

 

But Pepper wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t understand. Sure, he had met Omegas, not many times, but he had, and then there was Steve and Bruce (Tony couldn’t really couldn’t count them though, they were both mated). But something about this one,  _ jesus,  _ there was something about this kid that made his mind go fuzzy and the Alpha in him preen. But there was so much wrong with that, he didn’t need Pepper to tell him. He was a fucking kid, it didn’t even matter how old he was, Tony probably could have been his father three times over. Not to mention he was one of them now, under his protection.  _ Bucky and Steve are together, _ his mind reminded him. But he shook the thought away with a groan. No, no considering it. He wasn’t about to take advantage of a fucking kid. 

 

Some god must be looking down on Tony and laughing. (Well, actually, knowing Thor and Loki it wouldn’t be too crazy of an idea). When he walked into the refreshingly Peter free lounge, the boy seemed, as always, to be the topic  _ du jour.  _

 

“He’s been in his room a lot again, I thought we were doing so well,” Clint lamented. 

 

Tony resisted the urge to turn right around and leave again. But, he is nothing if not a nosy bitch. 

 

“He hasn’t been out since that night we were all together,” Natasha observed.  _ Except me,  _ Tony though, knowing full well he only had himself to blame for that. He watched as Natasha turned her head to Barnes. “He was fine when we left him with you, James. What did you do.” It didn’t sound like a question. 

 

The way Natasha threw out accusations and threats in such a casual way was terrifying (also a little hot, but Tony would never admit it). The Alpha in everyone manifests differently he guessed. 

 

“ _ I  _ didn’t do anything,” Barnes grunted out, the friendly animosity between him and Natasha was running high today. Noted. 

 

“Do I need to rephrase?” 

 

Tony leaned against the bar, not letting himself get close enough to be sucked into the Alpha-pheromone-echo-chamber. 

 

“He… I don’t know what he was thinking,” Bucky squinted, clearly still puzzled with whatever had happened. Tony poured himself a drink. Okay fine, now he was hooked on the story. Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. “He said something about Steve, about how long my  _ ‘Omega’  _ had been gone,” Bucky’s distaste for the whole ‘Omega’ and ‘his’ portion of the story was clear. “He… I had to stop him from undoing my pants.” 

 

_ “What.”  _ Tony found himself on his feet. 

 

“Stark.” Natasha was standing too. 

 

“I stopped him, I… Steve. I wouldn’t do that to Steve, to Peter.” Bucky looked towards Tony. His jaw set. 

 

“He tried to sleep with you?” Clint sounded as confused as Tony felt, minus the seething anger. If Barnes even put a  _ finger  _ on Peter. 

 

“The Academy,” Natasha turned to Clint, “I had wondered, if things would be the same here. I had my suspicions,” if Tony listened hard enough he could almost hear pain in her voice. Huh, Nat? Expressing emotion? 

 

“I wanted to ask,” Bucky started, he had that look on his face they had all come to recognize as him thinking about the past, “we had them when me and Steve were kids, places for Omegas to learn to serve and submit,” he looked about ready to murder. Tony couldn’t say he didn’t know the feeling. He really,  _ really  _ did. 

 

“What exactly are you saying this school he went to trained him for?” Bothering to take the anger out of his voice was all together far too tasking in that moment. 

 

“To please,” Natasha said, as if it wasn’t the most gut wrenchingly disgusting thing he had ever heard, “Omegas are taken from lower class families and trained to be essentially servants disguised as life partners. Cook, clean, please. Although they are less common here, it seems like we managed to find one.” 

 

Tony was seeing red. He wanted to tear the throat out of anyone who could do something like that, something like that to  _ Peter.  _

 

“When you say please…” Clint questions, having jumped to the thought Tony didn’t think he could bear to have confirmed (for many reasons, although that’s none of anyone’s business) 

 

“Yes. Peter would have been trained in the arts of breeding and pleasure.” Natasha stated. Tony’s gut wrenched, perhaps not as much in disgust as he wished.  _ Breeding.  _ He knew for many years Omegas were thought of differently… but the idea of Peter being raised to be some rich scumbags brood-mare… He sat down roughly. 

 

“Nat, how do you…” Bucky questioned lightly, Tony was barely listening. 

 

“Red Room had an… abbreviated program. Omegan arts were to come in handy undercover.” 

 

All Tony could think of was how this all looked to Peter. Men like Tony must have come into the ‘Academy’ constantly, leaving with Peter’s friends in tow. Peter… thought that’s what he was. Thought Tony brought him here to serve and…  _ please _ . 

 

“Stark,” Natasha called as Tony left the room, “Tony!” 

 

Tony was going to see Peter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone liked that!! Also just??? Oh my gosh thank you everyone so much for all the love and support on this?? The fact that we're almost at 300 kudos blows my fucking mind, so thank you all so much!!! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> (ps, I'm super new to the starker community and am d e s p e r a t e for starker blogs to follow? also just for friends in general in the fandom! So if you have a starker blog or are into that kinda thing this bitch over here is starved - don't hesitate to interact with [me](https://summerhare.tumblr.com/)) (I swear I'm not even trying to promo my blog I already shoved that down your throats, I'm just super lonely)

**Author's Note:**

> Leave any suggestions you have in the comments, I'd love to hear! Updates will probably be a touch sporadic, but I'm quite excited about this so keep your eyes peeled <3


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